Blood Light
by PassionateSoul
Summary: On a dead planet with one long night of danger, a young woman crashes with the survivors of the Hunter-Gratzner who can light up the darkest of shadows. Set during the movie, "Pitch Black". M for language and mild sexual content later.
1. Chapter 1

**Blood Light****  
On a dead planet with one long night of danger, a young woman crashes with the survivors of the Hunter-Gratzner who can light up the darkest of shadows. Set during the movie, "Pitch Black". M for language and mild sexual content later.**

**This is a work of fiction. The Chronicles of Riddick and all rights to said media are owned by Universal Studios. The character Stella Marx is entirely fictional and in no way is in the original story. All rights to the OC are mine.**

* * *

_They say that most of your brain shuts down in cryo sleep. All but the primitive side. The animal side. No wonder I can't sleep._

_Smelled a woman- no, make that two. One older than the other. The older one - sweat, boots, tool belt leather. Prospector type, free settlers. And they only take the back roads. The younger one - Ahhh, spices. Wine and expensive silk. Probably about seventeen. I smell nervousness. She's worried about something. So is her companion. Old man, almost over the hill. Still fit. Young enough to confront Johns about checking' her out on the sly. Smells about the same, but without the wine and silk. Aftershave and fine leather. Escaping nobles, I figure. Trying to get to a safe place after a violent shift in power. Politics, heh. And here's my real problem. Mr. Johns. The Blue-eyed devil. Planning on taking me back to Slam. Only this time, he picked a ghost lane. A long time between the stops. A long time for something to go wrong._

* * *

"Hello?" Stella called in a hoarse whisper. She had been jolted awake by the crash. Her cryo chamber hit the ground hard, the straps around her protecting her some, but she still got rattled a bit. Miraculously, her cryo chamber landed in one piece. After climbing out of the badly dented thing, she was following the crash trail to the main part of the ship.  
Her arm was oozing blood from where the straps dug in to keep her from hitting the sides and the thin air was making her dizzy. There was a long tear from the hem to the shoulder of her cream colored silk cloak. "Hello?" She called again, pushing her long red-brown hair behind her ears. "Is anyone here? Is anyone still alive?" Her voice echoed through the ship's remains as her deep black eyes scanned the surroundings. She stepped inside the cool shade, the sound of her leather-clad footsteps making a dull metallic thump. The sound made her feel even more isolated.  
She turned a corner and saw someone leaning against a support beam. "Oh, thank god! I thought-!" She rushed over, only to see that the person she saw was handcuffed to the beam.  
He was maybe 6'5", all muscle and dressed in black. A blindfold covered his eyes as a bit separated his teeth. He hissed through the bit and a line of drool ran down his chin.

"My god, who did this to you?" She whispered. His head turned in her direction at the sound of her voice. She took a few steps forward and reached for the auto release on the bit. "Here, let me-" Her fingers closed on the latch when a strong hand caught her wrist.

"I wouldn't do that." A man's voice cautioned. She whirled around and stared at the red-haired man gripping her wrist, his blue eyes boring into hers. Her eyes filled with tears as she threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest.

"I-I Th-though I was Th-the only one!" She sobbed into his shirt, babbling incoherently about how scared she was.

"Easy, easy," He hushed, holding her and rubbing her back in soothing circles. "Shh, there are others. They're in the other section of the ship." Slowly, her sobs subsided. He guided her out of the ship remains. "My name is William Johns."

"St-Stella M-Marx."

"Pretty name" He said, smiling at her. "How old are you, Stella?"

"S-seventeen. I w-was traveling with m-my grandfather. W-we were g-going t-to New M-Mecca." Her face turned deadly white. "H-he was right next to me!" With a shudder of realization, she fainted dead away.

* * *

"I found another survivor." Johns said, carrying her into the crash ship.

"Is she OK?" Jack asked.

"She fainted when she found out her grandpa was dead." He said, setting her down on the floor just as she was coming back to consciousness.

"What-? What happened?" She asked, staring up at Johns with wide, confused brown eyes. He cleared his throat.

"We crashed, remember?" Captain Carolyn Fry said in answer. Tears filled her eyes.

"Grandpa..." She whispered, but she blinked the tears away. "It's too hot." She said, taking off her cloak to reveal a matching calf-length summer dress made of soft, clinging material. Paris ogled her curvy figure as Johns cleared his throat again and looked pointedly at the floor. "Is this the cargo area?" By the way she spoke; it was as if English wasn't her first language.

"Yes. Do you have something here?" Fry asked as she wrapped a bit of cloth around the scrape on her arm.

"Um, yes. A metal suitcase made of versitanium with a pass code lock on the handle. Also, a cloth knapsack with gold embroidery around the flap edges. It has an E and an M embroidered on the left corner."

"Hey, I saw it a few minutes ago!" Jack said, going over to the sarcophagus and pulling it out from under it. "Here." He handed it to her. It seemed undamaged, save for a water stain spreading on the bottom.

"Thank you. And my suitcase?"

"We haven't found anything like that yet." Fry said.

"Thank you anyway." She opened her shoulder bag and rummaged around. "I have three bottles, one of them smashed, a med pack with anestaphine, some self-grooming baubles, a boot knife, and a flashlight. Is any of these of use?"

"What's in the bottles?" Paris asked.

"Um, two with water, one with a very nice burgeon that my grandfather bought for the trip." Her voice cracked at the mention of her grandfather, but she pressed on.

"Might we share the water when we search for more?" Imam asked."

"Um, sure, but there's only enough for at least a few sips per person. My name is Estella, by the way. It is very nice to meet you all."

* * *

Stella was in the other half of the ship, staring at the man in chains. Her eyes wandered from him to the half-full bottle of water in her right hand. She thought about giving him some water, but Johns said he was dangerous...  
Making her decision, she walked over to the support beam where he was chained up. As soon as the bit was off, he jerked his head and tried to bite her. She snatched her hand back a split second before his teeth caught her skin.

"Please don't." She said. "I'm just trying to help."

"Bullshit." The man rasped his voice like sandpaper. She scowled and pressed the bottle to his lips.

"Do you want some water?" She tipped the bottle so that a few drops moistened his lips. He growled low and licked the water up. She tipped it again so that a trickle poured into his mouth. She counted to five so that he got a decent mouthful, and then pulled it away. He rolled it in his mouth before swallowing. "You are welcome."

"Thanks." He said, the rasp gone from his voice.

"I'm Estella. Stella Marx."

"Richard B. Riddick." She liked the sound of his voice. It was like the smooth roll of thunder.

"What did you do to get tied up so thoroughly?"

"Killed a few people."

"You are a killer?" There was a note of uncertainty in her voice.

"I guess I am." She took a step back, toying with the bit in her left hand.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to put the bit back in your mouth." She said nervously.

"What's stopping you?" He asked. What indeed. To put it back on, she'd have to put her arms around his head, and she was afraid he might try to bite her again. With trembling fingers, she reached around his head to refasten the bit. She stiffened when he suddenly turned his head and stuck his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply. "It's been a long time since I smelled beautiful." He rumbled in her ear. She scrambled away from him, the bit making a dull clang when it hit the floor. He chuckled. "I'd keep that fine ass away from Johns, if I were you."

* * *

Moments later, all of them were arming up in the cargo container.

"How did he escape?" Stella asked as Johns strapped on his holster. She hadn't put the bit back into Riddick's mouth, opting for running away.

"Don't know. They should start calling that bastard Houdini." He said, handing her a war spear.

"What's the point, anyway? If the man is gone, he's gone. Why should he bother us?" Paris asked.

"Maybe to take what you got. Maybe to work your nerves. Or maybe to just come back and skull-fuck you in your sleep." Stella shivered at Johns harsh words. He put his hands on her shoulders comfortingly. "Don't worry, li'l darling'. I'll protect you." He murmured, squeezing. She smiled up at him, trusting that he would.

"He seems like a charmer." Shazza said sarcastically.

They all went outside, fitting themselves with oxygen burst tanks to compensate for the thin air, when Paris came running up from his watch.

"Excuse me, but you're going to have to see this." He said, pointing at the horizon. A third sun, this one an icy blue, started to rise as the other two set.

"3 suns!" Stella asked incredulously.

"So much for nightfall." Zeke said bitterly.

"So much for cocktail hour." Paris muttered.

"It is a good sign." Imam said happily. "Blue sun leads to blue water."

"Ever wonder why I'm an atheist?" Zeke asked Shazza.

"It's a bit of a bad sign because that's where Riddick's headed." Johns said.

"But I thought you found his restraints towards sunset." Fry asked

"This means he'll be heading in the opposite direction; towards sunrise."

"I'm scared." Stella blurted, her voice cracking with fear. Johns put one arm around her shoulders.

"Hey, it's OK. You can stick with me if it makes you feel safer." Stella shook his head.

"If he's out there, then I want to stay here."

"All right. Just stay close to the crash ship and if you hear anything, hide. I don't want to find out what Riddick will do to a pretty girl like you." She blushed and nodded as he let her go. He walked over and handed his gun to Zeke to show him how to use it. "One shot if you see him, OK?"

"What happens if Mr. Riddick spots us first?" Paris asked. Johns chuckled darkly.

"Then there will be no shots."

* * *

"Do you need any help? Stella asked. Shazza and Jack were trying to open the food lockers, which had been dented, shut by the crash, with a torch.

"No, but we could use the company. Safety in numbers and all." Shazza said. Stella leaned against the wall and watched them for a while.

"So what's your story?" Jack asked, leaning next to her. "Where are you from?"

"A small planet called Tarsier. It's really more of a moon than a planet."

"Tarsier...Tarsier... Yeah, I've heard of it. There was a rumor that the monarchy was overthrown and all of the royal family was sold on the slave market in the Tangiers system." Shazza said, pulling apart the door of one of the lockers. "Bingo." She said, reaching in and pulling out some nutrient cans.

"Well, it's true." Stella said, taking the pre-offered nutrients. "About the slavers. The new government needs money, so they sold an entire generation of our women to get it. My grandfather got me off-planet just in time for the slavers to arrive."

"What about your parents?" Shazza asked, eating another nutrient.

"I don't know. My mother ran off after I was born and I guess my father went after her. My grandfather was the only parent I've ever known. I heard him say once that my mother was as fickle as the flames; gobbling up everything that she thought was hers and leaving nothing to anyone but the bitter taste of ash, including my father. My grandfather used to say it was my father's fault that I never knew my parents because he married an off-world for love."

"I can't say I'd have liked your grandfather." Shazza commented. "Or his ideas on love."

"Me neither." Jack interjected. "He sounds like a mean old bastard."

"You don't understand how ridiculous it is for my people to marry for love." Stella protested. "Marriage is like a contract. It is only for gain, not because you feel the fires of love for a pretty face or a pleasing body. Love and marriage just don't go together on my planet."

"I think your planet confuses love with lust." Shazza said laughing slightly.

"Perhaps." Stella said, standing. I'm going to give some of these to Mr. Paris."

"All right, but be careful. Remember what Johns said." Shazza warned. Stella nodded and walked over to the other half of the crash ship.

"Oh, hello, Miss Marx." He said when she climbed up. "What a pleasant surprise."

"I thought you might be hungry, so brought these for you." She held out a can of nutrient and her quarter-empty water bottle. To him. "And some water."

"How very considerate of you. You're too kind." She flushed, pleased with the small compliment. A loud scraping noise made them both jump.

"What was that?" Stella asked, panicked.

"It's probably that Jack boy," He muttered. "Don't worry. I'll just nip down there and tell him to knock it off. You stay up here and keep an eye out for Zeke. Just...scream... if you see Mr. Riddick." He got up from his chair and climbed down. Stella sat in Paris' chair, trying to get as much oxygen in her lungs as possible, when she heard the sharp bark of a gun going off from the storage container. Reacting on instinct, she jumped off the top of the ship, skillfully hitting the ground at a roll and taking off running. She ran up to the others to see the body of a man and smell the coppery tang of blood in the air. Shazza was wiping said blood off of her face.

"What happened?" Stella asked Zeke, who was dragging the body onto a tarp.

"Thought another survivor was Riddick." Zeke grunted, dragging the body away. Stella cast a worried look at everyone. Jack was morbidly silent, Paris was gagging at the smell of blood, and Shazza was continuing on with what she was doing.

"I think I'll go hide somewhere." Stella said nervously.

* * *

Stella slid the hatch away from the old facility room. It was a wriggle, a squeeze and a tuck, but she could get in there. It was a small cove of smashed-in metal, roughly rounded and 3' by 7'. One of the "walls" was actually a pile of scrap metal that blocked this place from view. From the gaps in the pile, she could see the cryo chamber room and not be seen by anyone standing there. She curled up on the floor and sighed. At least she had some space to herself. She sighed again. It felt good. She sighed one more time, ending in a hiccup. Her sighs soon turned to sobs, which turned into an all-out bawling session. She missed her grandfather so much; it actually physically hurt her to breath. She heard the clanging scrape of someone coming into her cove. Jack dropped down next to her. They sat there in a companionable silence broken only by Stella's occasional hiccup.

"So," Jack said, breaking the silence. "What do you think of Riddick?"

"He's complicated." Stella answered. "It would be better if we stayed away from him." Jack stared at her.

"You know, you're a bit of a wuss."

"Of course I am! I'm a girl!" She replied hotly.

"Not all girls are wusses. Just look at Fry. She's not a wuss."

"Well, she hasn't been spoiled like I have."

"HA! I knew it!" He shoved her playfully. "Spoiled brat." She punched him in the shoulder. "Ow! I was just kidding!"

"I have had some martial arts lessons." She proved it by throwing a few jabs in the air. "So don't pick a fight me unless you want to hurt." They chuckled together, making friends. Suddenly, Jack started to look nervous.

"Can I tell you a secret?" He asked.

"I think you can." Stella joked. He held out his pinkie to her.

"Swear. Pinkie swears not to tell anyone." She stared at his outstretched finger, not knowing what to do, then tentatively hold out her own. He hooked their fingers together and squeezed.

"I swear." She said. Jack opened his mouth to say something when there were shots outside. They both bolted in shock. More shots sounded, along with the sound of Zeke screaming.

"Riddick," Jack said, lifting himself out of their hiding place. Stella followed reluctantly. When they got outside, the screaming had stopped. Johns was dragging the unconscious form of Riddick on the sled. Captain Fry was supporting a sobbing Shazza.

"Stay back!" Johns barked at the two as he dragged Riddick inside the crash ship.

"What happened?" Jack asked.

"That murdering bastard killed Zeke!" Shazza choked. Jack and Stella shared a look, and then stared at the ship where Riddick had disappeared.

* * *

Stella was once again in her cove, this time alone. She was peering into the cryo room where she saw Captain Fry talking to a restrained Riddick. Even with his arms chained as far apart as possible, he still had that air of a dangerous animal. He stared at Fry, almost lounging on his prison seat.  
The echo was terrible and they were a bit too far to make out the conversation, but she got the gist of the dialogue between them from the trick her grandfather taught her of studying body language. Fry was angry and a bit scared. Her anger turned into irritation at Riddick's answer to her question. She was curiously taking a step forward, fear making her movements slow and purposeful. Now Fry was walking towards Riddick, wiping her hands nervously on her pants. Riddick just lounged where he was chained.  
When she got a step too close, he lunged at her, bringing his face to the light. Stella gasped. He had no pupils. Smooth opalescent disks of lavender shined in the dim blue light. His eyes flickered to Stella's corner, but went back to staring Fry down.

"Where the Hell can I get eyes like that?" Stella heard Jack say, standing out of her sight line. Stella had heard enough. Almost soundlessly, she lifted herself out of her hiding place and headed outside. She got there in time to hear Fry's plan to check the hole that they were talking about for Zeke's body.

"I think he went off on the guy and buried him in the hills somewhere so you'll believe that there's something else out there" Johns said to Fry as they walked towards said hills. Stella followed.

"Let's just be sure." Fry said.

"You're leaving Riddick alone?" Stella called. They all stopped and turned to her. She was a little ways away from the group, looking like a lost child. "If you are, I can stay here and guard him. I just need the gun." With a curious look, Johns walked back and handed her his handgun, newly retrieved from the hole.

"Do you know how-?" He started, but stopped when she popped the clip out, checked the ammo count, and rammed the clip home with practiced precision. "I guess you're not as naive as I thought." He put his hand on her shoulder and stared into her eyes. "Be careful, alright?" She nodded, a thrill going up her spine when she caught those blue eyes of his.

"I won't let him out of my sight."

* * *

"So you're back." Riddick said his face in shadows. Stella said nothing, stepping forward with the gun pointed at him. "Are you going to ghost me this time?"

"No," She said, sitting on an upturned metal crate. "I'm just here to watch you so that you don't escape again." He chuckled.

"Where would I go?"

"I don't know. Johns says you're clever. He says you just might find a way off of this planet."

"Like that skiff they found at the abandoned settlement?" Stella cocked the gun, the click echoing through the ships remains.

"Maybe. And kill us all in the meantime." She rested the handle on her right knee. "Why did you kill those people?"

"What people?"

"The people that they say you killed. Why kill in the first place? What's the point?"

"The point is that they deserved it." He growled, leaning towards her so that the faint light reflected off of his opalescent eyes. She gulped her mouth suddenly dry. It was like looking at a beast; fascinatingly beautiful, but entirely terrifying.

"I don't think you're a bad person, Riddick," She blurted. "Just intimidating. Humans fear what they don't understand. That's why you hide behind your intimidation. Because they don't understand you and you don't want them to." She took a deep breath and waited. He said nothing, just sat there.

"Is that so?" He said finally. With a swift rattle of chains, he lunged at her like he did to Fry. She reacted in the same second, leaping to her feet and pointing the gun an inch from his face. The way she held the gun with one hand supporting the other, and the fact that the gun was comfortably steady in her hand, told of years practicing. "What about you? I've been watching you. The way you move and speak. You're hiding behind that sweet face and that fine body, playing the innocent. What are you trying to hide?"

"I don't know." She said, not lowering the gun. "All I know is that I'm stuck here, my grandfather's dead, and I'm pointing a gun at a known convict." Her hands started to tremble slightly as she lowered the gun and sat back down. "My grandfather was the only one that I could count on. He raised me to take care of myself, but he's always taken care of me. I'm not pretending to be innocent. I just don't let on to how much I know." She shifted uncomfortably under his steady gaze. "So that's it. What do you have to say?" Apparently nothing, for he sat down again and didn't speak to her.

* * *

They sat in silence, Stella still keeping the gun trained on Riddick, when she heard a commotion outside.

"I'm going to go see what happened." She said, backing away slowly. "Don't try anything."

"No need." Riddick said just as Johns stalked into the ship, his eyes on Riddick.

"Get out." Johns said to Stella, jabbing his thumbs towards the entrance. She did what he said, handing him the gun as she passed by.

"So you finally found something worse than me?" She heard Riddick say. She paused, and then crouched down out of sight of the two men, listening intently.

"Here's the deal," Johns said. "You work without bit, without chains, without shivs. You do what I say, when I say it-"

"For what? The Honor of going back to some asshole of a cell? Fuck you."

"Look, the truth is, I'm tired of chasing you."

"Are you saying you'd cut me loose?" There was a hint of hope in Riddick's voice, barely detectable. Stella wondered if Johns would really let him go.

"I'm saying you could've died in the crash."

"My recommendation? Do me. Don't take the chance that I'll get shiv-happy on your wanna-be ass."

"Ok," Johns said, unimpressed by Riddick's scare-tactics.

"Ghost me, Motherfucker that's what I'd do to you" Stella heard the rip of Velcro a second before there was an explosion of the shotgun going off. She went cold when she thought of Riddick being dead. Johns killed Riddick. Johns is a murderer. There was a rattle of chains sliding off of metal as Johns spoke again.

"I want you to remember this moment. About the way it could've gone and didn't. Here." Stella peeked around the corner to see Johns holding out goggles to, an obviously alive, Riddick. A strange wave of relief swept through her when she saw that he was alive, although she didn't know if it was for Riddick or because Johns wasn't that cold-blooded. Riddick's eyes met hers for an instant before Riddick had John's own shotgun pointed at him. It was so fast that even Stella missed it. The two men stared at each other warily, Johns with his hands rose.

"FUCK YOU!" He roared to Johns inaudible comment.

"Do we have a deal?" He said louder. Another stare-down ensued. Stella stared wide-eyed at Riddick, the tension almost palatable. Riddick glanced quickly at Stella, the turned his attention back to Johns.

"I want you to remember this moment." Riddick mocked, pulling the gun away and throwing it at Johns' feet. She scuttled back into a smaller space as Riddick stormed out of the ship. She waited to the count of five before crawling out of the conduit space and going back she almost ran into Johns.

"Johns, what happened? Did you just-?"

"It's all right." he said, settling his hands on her shoulders, a now-familiar posture he took when talking to her. "Unfortunately, that bastard didn't kill Zeke. Some creatures that live in that hole did. I thought that if I had him on our side, it would be one less thing to worry about. I just want everyone to be safe." He frowned, taking a look at her left arm. Her bicep was slightly swollen and the skin around the edges of Fry's makeshift cloth bandage was tinted red. "What's wrong with your arm?"

"What?" She followed his gaze to her left arm. "Oh, it got scraped in the crash. It stings a little, but I'm fine." He didn't say anything, just grabbed her arm and started to untie the bandage. She winced as the dried blood that fused with the cloth tugged at the raw edges of the wound. It was irritated from the cloth and her own sweat. Beads of blood and a clear liquid oozed from where the bandage was pulled off.

"It isn't infected yet, but it needs to be taken care of soon." He said, turning her arm towards the light to examine it closer.

"The med kit's in my bag." She said, pointing to where it sat on the floor, where she had been guarding Riddick. Johns picked it up and rifled through it until pulled out the kit. He swiped it with alcohol swab first, making her hiss in pain, before wrapping it in a clean white bandage. She watched him do it, the act of him taking care of her warming her heart.

"D-do you thing Riddick will help us?" She asked as he crouched down to put the medical supplies away. He snorted.

"Well, I wouldn't trust the bastard as far as I can throw him." He said, standing up and handing her the knapsack. The mental image of Johns trying to throw the muscle-bound Riddick like a javelin made her giggle.

"How could you throw him? He's so much bigger than you." He smiled when he heard her laugh.

"Hey, you're pretty when you're happy." She blushed and looked down at her feet. He lifted her chin so that his eyes roamed her face. Her face felt hot under his scrutiny. Slowly, he leaned in and kissed her. She let out a squeak of surprise, and then let her eyes flutter closed. She felt his hands rest on her hips as she slit her hands up his chest. She'd never been kissed before. She'd dreamed of it often, like all teen aged girls, and this; being held against this man's tall lean body, his lips soft against hers, butterflies dancing in her stomach and her entire body tingling. This was perfect. His hands slit from her hips to her lower back, pulling her closer. His lips parted and his tongue was in her mouth all of a sudden. She pulled away in shock, her right hand coming up to cover her mouth. "You've never been French kissed before?" He asked his voice low and full of amusement. She avoided his gaze, her face even redder.

"I've never been kissed before." She said sheepishly. He chuckled quietly and rested his forehead against hers.

"There's a first time for everything." He murmured, touching his lips lightly to hers. She shivered, her lips tingling at the slight touch.

"I-I h-have to g-go see a-about my other th-things." She said, successfully escaping his arms.

"We're leaving the abandoned settlement in a few." He told her, his gaze hooded and intense. She gulped nervously and ran out of the ship.


	2. Chapter 2

**Blood Light****  
On a dead planet with one long night of danger, a young woman crashes with the survivors of the Hunter-Gratzner who can light up the darkest of shadows. Set during the movie, "Pitch Black". M for language and mild sexual content later.**

**This is a work of fiction. The Chronicles of Riddick and all rights to said media are owned by Universal Studios. The character Stella Marx is entirely fictional and in no way is in the original story. All rights to the OC are mine.**

* * *

Stella rummaged through the cargo section, looking for her suitcase while everyone else scrambled for the necessities. She had to move a pile of scrap metal before she found it at the bottom. The chrome finish was pretty scuffed up, there were even a couple of dents in it, but the thumbprint scanner on the lock handle still worked. Quickly, she opened it and pulled out a cream colored, short-sleeved jumpsuit. Hidden in the shiny, sectioned belt that came with it were razor-thin throwing knives. She changed out of her summer dress, making sure that she was alone in the cargo section, sliding on the matching calf-length brown boots afterwards. She continued adding to the ensemble, shoving a five-inch-long hunting knife in to the custom-made sheath in her right boot and strapping on an inch-wide bracelet that doubled as a container for her darts. After she was done, she pulled out a hair tie and tried to braid her hair. She'd never braided her own hair before, but she thought that it would be easy.  
Ten minutes of frustration later, she was thinking of cutting off all her hair. She finally decided to put it in a plain ponytail when she felt rough hands gathering her hair from her temples. She froze, thinking it was Johns.

"I used to do this for a woman I knew when I was a kid." Riddick rumbled as he deftly separated her hair into four sections and wove them together. For some reason, knowing it was him and not Johns made her relax. "Name was Lupa. Used to take me in at night so I could have a roof over my head. Used to to comb it out and braid it for her at the night. Hair was so long that she couldn't do it herself." She stood there silently as he wrapped the hair tie around the end. She turned to him.

"What happened to her?" She asked.

"She died." He said bluntly.

"I'm sorry." She wanted to do something to comfort him, but she as still a little scared of him. "I never had anyone to teach me how to braid my own hair. No sisters. I wish I did, though." He said nothing. An awkward silence stretched between them. She cleared her throat. "Well, I-"

"What was your grandfather's name?" He asked suddenly.

"What?"

"Your grandfather. His real name." Her stomach turned when she comprehended his question.

"Wh-...I-I don't know what you're talking about. His name was Marx, like-"

"Don't bullshit me." He growled. "What was his name?" She shivered at the threat in his tone.

"S-Satoli. Boniface Satoli." She waited for him to walk away, to tell the others who her grandfather really was, but he just stood there. Her eyes started to prickle.

"Prince Satoli. The Blue-Blood." He whispered to himself. Her resolve crumbled.

"P-please d-don't tell!" She sobbed, her voice trembling. "I-I'll give you wh-whatever you w-want! M-My family is v-very rich, I c-can give you all of m-my money-"

"I don't want your money." He said quietly. "Calm down."

"B-but i-if Johns f-found out, h-he'd arrest m-me f-for n-not t-turning him i-in-"

"Johns won't arrest anyone. " He said. "Your secret is safe with me." She swiped at her eyes, blinking away her tears.

"R-really? Th-thank you." She knelt down and started throwing her stuff in the suitcase haphazardly. "H-he wasn't bad. He was actually a kind ruler, but when the Council found out that he was an assassin in his youth, they decided to overthrow the monarchy. They didn't want it to get out. They were planning on selling the both of us to the Slavers." She slammed the suitcase shut and threw on her cloak. "I don't blame them. My grandfather said the new government won't last." She turned to look at Riddick, but he was gone.

* * *

Stella walked a little ways ahead of the group, the hood of her cloak up to protect her from the glare of the sun. After a few minutes of walking by herself, she heard someone walking next to her.

"How you holdin' up?" She heard Johns ask.

"I'm fine." She said, taking another hit of oxygen. They walked in silence for a while.

"Look, I'm sorry if I moved too fast for you. It's not every day you get to kiss a beautiful girl." She blushed at his compliment.

"No apologies necessary. I-I'm not the most experienced with men. I've been very protected."

"I kind of figured that out when your grandpa yelled at me for 'making eyes' at you in the ship." She avoided his gaze.

"Why do you keep saying that?" She asked

"Keep saying what?"

"That I'm beautiful."

"Because you are, Stella." he smiled at her. Butterflies started dancing in her stomach at his look. _Maybe being stranded isn't so bad..._ She thought.

* * *

"I can appreciate antiques, but this...?" Paris said as he returned from examining the ship. "This is something else."

"It'll work." Johns said.

"There's nothing we can't repair as long as the electrical adapts." Fry added.

"I can help with the system repairs on the piloting mechanisms and see if there's any rewiring that needs to be done." Stella said. They all stared at her. "Ships are my hobby." She said simply.

"Ummm, if you can check the piloting mechanisms, that would be great." Captain Fry said.

"It's not a star jumper." Shazza commented.

"It doesn't have to be." Riddick announced from a few feet away. They al turned to stare at him. "Take a two-seater like this back up to the sol-track shipping lanes. Stick out a thumb. Bound to get picked up." Stella glanged at the others to see Johns give Captain Fry an 'I-told-you so' look.

"Can I get a hand over here?" Fry said in answer to it. Stella thought it was a good time to check the outer wiring connectors. She grabbed the toolbag and went to the front outside hull latch. She went to work unlatching the front radiation shield and the secondary stabalizers to get at it. When she finally got them open, a mess of tangled and chewed wires spilled out. She studied at the tangle in disbelief and went back to talk to Fry.

"Was the front panel open when you got here?" She asked Fry as Shazza was connecting the power cell to the main system.

"No. It was closed, why?"

"It looks like someone was trying to convert all of the power to the stern lights. The whole thing is a huge mess of stripped and twisted wires. I'm going to have to sort and re-fuse all of them to the original scematics. It'll take at least two hours and I need some fusing tape for it."

"There's a utilities shed over by that old greenhouse." Johns said. "Here, I'll show you where it is." He stepped out and gestured for her to follow.  
When they got there, Stella saw in the dim, dusty light that there were tools and metalworking supplies packed in every inch of the place. A fine layer of dust covered everything. She spotted a roll of fusing tape on the worktable, its surface crowded with tools.

"I found some-" she felt Johns grab her arm. With a yank, he spun her around and covered her mouth with his. She felt the edge of the worktable dig into her lower back as his lean body pressed agaist hers. His lips moved provocativly over hers, begging her to open her mouth for him. Tentativly, she did. He moaned deep in his throat as his tongue delved into her mouth, flirting with hers. This wan't like the tender first kiss. This was frantic heat and passion. His hands moved freely over her body, unlacing her cloak and letting it drop to the floor. He pulled away to examine the way her outfit hugged the curves of her body. His burning, blue-eyed gaze seemed to be an X-ray.

"This is nice. I like this." He panted, his arms pulling her as close as they could get. There was a huge ruckus as Johns lifted Stella up and deposited her onto the worktable, knocking off half of the tools with the sweep of his arm. All she could do was cling desperatly to him. Her arms went around his neck, his hips between her legs. She tossed her head back, so that Johns could graze lips and tongue up and down her neck. He nippped and licked, drawing out little whimpers and moans from her. His mouth made its way to hers again as his hands found the hem of her shirt, taking advantage by slipping inside to stroke the silky skin of her back. One of his hands came up to cup her left breast. She panted at the feel of his rough hands on her bare flesh. Her head was spinning. Her body was on fire. She didn't know what Johns was doing to her, but it felt good. She couldn't stand it. She couldn't...  
Throught her half-closed eyes she could see in the doorway the shadow of-

"Riddick!" she gasped, her eys wide as she pulled away. Johns looked at her in disbelief before following her shocked gaze to the doorway.

"Fuck!" Johns exclaimed, pulling away from Stella. She jumped off the table and hastily threw on her cloak, scooping up the forgotten fusing tape from the floor. They stared at each other for a few beats before Riddick strolled away, a hint of a grin on his face.

"Can't get a few damn minutes..." Johns muttered, pissed. Stella didn't stay for the rest, rushing out to find Riddick. He was waititng in a secluded alley between two houses, leaning against the wall of one.

"I thought I told you to keep away from Johns?" He said casually. She licked her lips nervously. They tasted like dry dirt and chapped skin.

"From what I inferred from your tone, it was a recommendation." She stated. "Besides, he's been nothing but kind to me-"

"If you think playing tonsil-hocky and pawing at you like a dog is 'being kind', then I can be kind, too." In an instant, he was towering over her, a mere inch away. She gasped and tried to back away, but he seized her arms, trapping her where she was. "What do you think? Should I 'be kind' to you?" He rumbled softly. He leaned in so close, Stella could smell him; male sweat and something else, something feral. She kind of liked it. He took a deep breath through his nose, moving over her head and down the side. His exhaled breath hit her neck, making her shiver. Just the thought if him kissing her set her body afire. Sweet gods above!

"A-are you using your vulgarity as your weapon, now?" She said, trying to put as much distance as he would allow, which wasn't much. He chuckled right next to her ear. This wasn't good.

"Nah. I use weapons as weapons. Vulgarity is more like a sidekick." He whispered. Her throat went dry.

"Please, Mr. Riddick, I have to get back." She whimpered, trying to tug her arms out of his iron grip. Suddenly, he let go, making her stumble.

"Run along now." He said "You don't want to keep the rest waiting."

* * *

Stella went back to the ship in a daze and settled into the task of detangling, reorganizing, repairing, and reconnecting the damaged wiring. It was a good way to keep her thoughts away from Riddick. Captain Fry checked on her when Stella started, but blanched when she saw how much work Stella would have to do. As soon as she was done, however, Stella got a surprised look from Fry.

"You did that?" The capain asked.

"Yes. Spaceships were my hobby back on Tarsier. What worries me is that this job was done without any amount of skill. They seemed to just rip out the wires and reconnected them in a haphazard manner. Another thing that worries me is that there are signs of claw marks all over these panels. It is as if there was a large animal crawling all over this place." Fry said nothing, a concentrated look on her face.

"The only animals i know on this planet right now are those things in the caves underground." She said slowly, thoughtfully. "But they seem to be sensitive to sunlight."

"Then how did they manage to claw up these panels?" Stella asked. Fry frowned at the ship, like it was the source of their problems and not their only way of getting off of the planet.


End file.
